


Of Bentleys and Bookstores

by Angel With a Bookstore (musicofthespheres)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicofthespheres/pseuds/Angel%20With%20a%20Bookstore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demons don't do things out of the goodness of their hearts, because there is not supposed to be any goodness of their hearts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Bentleys and Bookstores

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GigiWritesThings (sp8sexual)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp8sexual/gifts), [Winnywriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winnywriter/gifts).



Of course, for Crowley, there were a few things that could be deemed "inappropriate" for a demon such as himself to be doing.  
Like what he was doing right this moment. Which was arranging a few things so that the rest of the day of the young teenager who had informed him he had the coolest car he'd ever seen would go swimmingly. Demons aren't supposed to do things out of the goodness of their hearts, because there was not supposed to _be_ any goodness of their hearts. 

Aziraphale watched fondly out the window of his bookstore as Crowley smiled at the kid before entering.  
"What are you so happy about?" the demon scowled. He took a bite of the American-style hamburger that had conveniently appeared in his hand. He hadn't had a decent one since 1958. It didn't taste as good as he remembered.  
"Nothing," Aziraphale responded. "But you're getting crumbs all over my carpet."  
Crowley looked down and vaguely waved a hand, and the crumbs vanished. "No matter," he muttered around his mouthful of not-so-delicious ground beef and bun.  
"That kid's going to have a nice auto shop one day, don't you think?" Crowley said, indicating the teenager who was still ogling his car.  
Aziraphale smiled knowingly. "I won't tell anyone," he said simply.  
"Best not," Crowley agreed. "Because then you'd be lying. Who'd believe an angel talking about the kindness of a demon?" 

Aziraphale put the "back in 15 minutes" sign on the front door and Crowley followed him into the back.  
"Got you this," Crowley said and handed him an ancient-looking copy of Don Quixote. "Found it lying around. Thought that, since, you know, you did something about those pigeons who thought it would be a good idea to use my car as a shi-"  
"Much appreciated," Aziraphale cut him off before he could finish swearing. He took the book and smiled down at it. He already had a copy, of course, but he tucked it away on a special shelf among other books Crowley had given to him. 

"Now then," Crowley said, standing with his hands resolutely on his hips. "How about we go for lunch?"  
Aziraphale smiled. "Only if you're buying."


End file.
